


Royal Opera House

by Caedmon



Series: Fantasies [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: Aziraphale has tickets for a ballet production of 'Hamlet' at the Royal Opera House.Crowley has a fantasy about having sex in public.You can probably guess the rest.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fantasies [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738033
Comments: 64
Kudos: 437
Collections: Top Aziraphale Recs





	Royal Opera House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miele_Petite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to Miele_Petite, who inspired/requested this fantasy! I hope you like it, my dear, and have the most wonderful of birthdays! 
> 
> Beta'd by NarumiKaiko, but all the mistakes are on me.

Crowley sighed happily, pulling Aziraphale a little more snugly into his arms, and nuzzled the back of his angel’s head. Over the last year or so, since the Apocalypse had been averted and they’d admitted their love soon after, he’d become very accustomed to sleeping while wrapped around Aziraphale. They didn’t actually sleep terribly often - Aziraphale had never really developed the habit and Crowley preferred to stay awake if Aziraphale was going to be - but they indulged in a night of sleep once every week or so. Crowley loved when they did. He adored waking up with Aziraphale in his arms. 

It was Saturday morning, the birds were singing outside Aziraphale’s bedroom window, and bright sunlight was starting to creep along the floorboards towards the bed. Aziraphale was breathing deeply and rhythmically, indicating that he was still asleep. Crowley smiled to himself, overwhelmed with love and gratitude for this moment, and closed his eyes, squeezing his love gently. 

Aziraphale stirred a little, and Crowley started pressing kisses to his bare shoulders. Aziraphale hummed and squirmed a little more. 

“Good morning, love,” he said, his voice clotted with sleep. 

Crowley kissed his back again, at the place his wings would meet, were they not hidden. “Good morning, angel. Sleep well?”

“Mmm, I always sleep well with you.”

“Are you starting to enjoy sleeping then?”

“Only because it’s with you, dear. Falling asleep and waking up in your arms more than makes up for the lost hours.”

Crowley grinned. “Good. Turn over here so I can get a look at you.”

Aziraphale rolled obediently until they were belly to belly, wrapped in each other’s arms, their legs tangled. He had pillow wrinkles on his face and his blue-grey eyes were still bleary with sleep, but Crowley smiled happily at the sight of him. Aziraphale gave a sleepy smile in return. 

Crowley leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s smile. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

Crowley kissed him again, just for the joy of it, then retreated to his own pillow. “So what do we have on the agenda for today?”

“Not much, really. I thought I might open the shop for a couple of hours. Tonight, you’re taking me to the ballet.”

He cringed a little. “That’s tonight?”

“Yes, that’s tonight.”

Crowley sighed. He was _not_ interested in the ballet. But he had promised, after all…

“What are we going to see?”

“Hamlet.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Hamlet is a ballet?”

“Yes, dear. There’s a ballet production of nearly all of Shakespeare’s works.”

He fought the urge to groan. He already wasn’t interested in the ballet, and he’d never liked Shakespeare’s gloomy ones. It looked like he was in for a dull, unpleasant evening. 

“Do we have to?” he whined, jutting his lip out a little for effect.

“We’ve had these tickets for _weeks_ , Crowley. You’ll be fine. It’s only one evening.”

Crowley sighed, sounding very put out, but resigning himself to the most boring night ever. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But I’m going to complain the whole time.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled. “I think I can make it worth your while.”

“How’s that?”

“Didn’t you tell me one time recently that you’d always wanted to make love in public, in the middle of a crowd?”

Crowley perked up a little at that, liking where this was going. “Yeah…”

“What would you think about making that happen tonight?”

“You’re serious? You want to have sex with me tonight, at the Royal Opera House, in the middle of Hamlet?”

“I’m very serious. To be honest, I’d like to have sex with you in lots of public places, lots of ways, but this will be a nice start. What do you say?”

Crowley’s smile could have powered the entirety of London. “I say, ‘What time shall I pick you up?’”

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale thanked the usher who escorted them to their box profusely, but all Crowley was able to muster was a tight-lipped smile as he passed the young man and followed Aziraphale in. He was relieved when the door shut behind them and used a little miracle to lock it. He may have wanted to shag in public, but he didn’t fancy being walked in on.

He and Aziraphale took their seats in the private box, looking out over the stage and the seats below. Crowley felt a bubbling sense of anticipation that had nothing to do with the performance they were about to watch and everything to do with the smiling angel beside him. 

“This is exciting! Isn’t this exciting, dear?”

Crowley nodded sincerely. “I’m very excited.” And indeed he was. His cock was already half-hard in anticipation. 

Aziraphale chuckled and patted his leg, then opened the program and started to read. Crowley had no interest in reading about a production he didn’t intend to watch, and the history of the building was similarly uninteresting to him. He’d been there when it was built, after all - all three times. He was much more interested in watching the seats below them fill, knowing that once all the seats were full, the show would begin and then the fun would _really_ get started. He had no idea what Aziraphale had planned for tonight, but he was ready to go along with anything. 

_Fuck_ , he was excited. 

Aziraphale chattered happily beside him, talking about the adaptation they were about to see, and Crowley _tried_ to care, but he couldn’t. 

When the seats below were nearly full, Aziraphale closed the program and turned to Crowley. “I feel like this goes without saying, but in order for this to work, you’re going to have to be quiet. A little bit of noise will be drowned out by the music and the performance, but _too much_ and we’ll draw unwanted attention to ourselves.”

Crowley nodded. “You’re right. I can keep myself together.”

Aziraphale gave him a doubtful but fond look, and Crowley just grinned in response. 

“I’d like to try something else tonight, if you’re willing,” Aziraphale said.

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to request that you not come until I say so.”

Crowley blinked stupidly. “You’re serious?”

“Very. I’d like to try this, if that’s alright. Think of it as a little game. Are you agreeable?”

Crowley nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m agreeable.”

“If you get tired of playing the game, all you have to do is say our usual safeword and I’ll make you come immediately. You remember it?”

“Ducks,” Crowley supplied at once.

“That’s right. I’m very curious to see how long you can hold out.”

Crowley had no idea, but like Aziraphale, he was eager to find out. His cock hardened a little further.

“So we’re agreed? You are to remain quiet during the performance and you may not come until I give you permission.”

He nodded eagerly. “We’re agreed.”

“Excellent!” Aziraphale said with a happy wiggle, just as the lights flickered on and off, signaling the imminent start of the show. Once the flickering was over, he smiled beatifically at Crowley. “I think this is going to be a night both of us remember fondly.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Crowley replied. 

The lights dimmed again, and Aziraphale turned towards the stage below. Crowley was surprised - and pleased - when he felt Aziraphale reach over and take his hand, threading their fingers, just as the curtain went up. 

The first few minutes were uneventful, and exactly what Crowley had feared. If he’d enjoyed ballet (or Hamlet), he was sure he’d have been enjoying the performance very much, but he wasn’t. The only thing that kept him from performing a little demonic miracle of his own to shake things up and make them more interesting was the sure knowledge that Aziraphale would _not_ be amused, and that would likely ruin the mood. So he behaved. 

He was just contemplating leaning over and whispering filthy suggestions in Aziraphale’s ear when the angel released his hand. Crowley barely had time to feel a flicker of hurt before he felt Aziraphale’s hand creeping up his thigh, towards his suddenly attentive cock. Crowley shifted a little lower in his seat, spreading his legs wider, offering himself up wordlessly. He was thrilled when Aziraphale’s warm hand covered his bulge. 

Aziraphale’s touch was light and teasing, but it was more than enough to have him hard as a rock within seconds. Aziraphale stroked him through the denim of his trousers, and Crowley contemplated using a miracle to open them so Aziraphale could touch him properly. He looked over at Aziraphale, perhaps for guidance, but the angel seemed totally absorbed in the dancers below. That wouldn’t do. Crowley leaned over to kiss Aziraphale’s ear and blow on it, a little teasing that he knew drove Aziraphale mad, but Aziraphale stopped stroking his cock long enough to swat his leg. 

“Watch the ballet, dear,” he admonished without looking away from the stage. 

“But…”

“Watch the ballet,” he repeated in a firm voice, but his hand went back to cover Crowley’s cock. Crowley was taken aback for a minute, but recovered. If that was what Aziraphale wanted him to do, that was what he would do. Whatever his angel wanted. 

Crowley was very much enjoying the light attentions to his effort, but wishing for more, and he once again contemplated opening his trousers so he could feel Aziraphale’s skin. Just when he moved to do so, Aziraphale withdrew his hand and put it in his own lap, confusing Crowley. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m perfect, dear. Enjoying the show?”

“Well I _was_ ,” Crowley snarked. 

Aziraphale just chuckled, but didn’t replace his hand. Crowley resisted the urge to pout. 

It seemed like hours passed, but Crowley knew it was only a couple of minutes before he felt Aziraphale’s hand cover his cock again. It had deflated somewhat, but sprung back to life immediately under the gentle touches. He was thrilled when Aziraphale went to work on his belt and button, seeking to free him, and hastened to help. 

With both of them working together, it was only a matter of seconds before his cock was exposed. Aziraphale indicated with a couple of tugs that he wanted Crowley’s trousers down, and Crowley complied immediately, raising his hips and shoving his trousers and pants down around his thighs, leaving his arse bare on the seat. 

He was rewarded when Aziraphale’s hand wrapped around him and started pumping gently. Crowley closed his eyes and sighed a little, leaning back in his seat. Aziraphale’s strokes were light and rhythmic - not enough to get him off, but they felt really, _really_ good. He could feel the first stirrings of orgasm in the distance, but it wasn’t hard to suppress them. For now, he was just enjoying the touch. 

The music picked up tempo and volume, indicating an increase in the action on stage, and Aziraphale seemed to see that as his cue to step up his efforts with Crowley. His hand tightened around Crowley’s cock and he started stroking faster. Crowley could feel that he’d miracled some lubricant into his hand, making Crowley’s cock slick. He let go with a little moan, his hands digging into the wood of the armrests. He could feel orgasm building and was just about to warn Aziraphale when the angel instinctively backed off, into a slower, more gentle rhythm. Crowley let out a breath, getting himself back under control. It wasn’t hard to do - yet. He had a feeling Aziraphale wasn’t going to be happy until he had pushed Crowley to the brink, though. Probably multiple times. He was torn between excitement and dread. 

The slow, gentle touches continued for a little while - just enough to keep Crowley’s attention. This was fine, he thought. He could hold out for ages like this, he told himself confidently. It was all fine. 

Without warning, Aziraphale started stroking Crowley hard and fast again, his grip tighter. Crowley made a strangled sound before he could stop himself, and covered his mouth with his hand. Aziraphale jerked him off vigorously, relentlessly, and Crowley bit his hand to keep quiet. He could feel his balls tightening, he could feel himself getting closer, just a second more…

Then, just as suddenly as he’d started, Aziraphale backed off. Crowley whimpered into his hand from disappointment, and Aziraphale shushed him. He didn’t stop his stroking, thank somebody, but he didn’t keep to a rhythm. He’d pump Crowley soft, slow, and gentle for a couple of minutes, until Crowley felt like he had control of himself, then out of the blue, he’d start up again with the punishing rhythm, causing Crowley to make little noises. On and on it went, fast then slow then fast again, Crowley skating nearer and nearer to the edge each time, driving him absolutely mad. 

Crowley was seriously debating the merits of miracling them both home when the third act began. Aziraphale released his cock for the first time in at least thirty minutes, and Crowley didn’t even have time to whimper pitifully before Aziraphale dropped to his knees in front of him and put his mouth on Crowley’s cock. 

He barely managed to refrain from crying out, shoving his fist into his mouth and biting it, his eyes glued to the sight before him. Aziraphale started out slow, with licks and nibbles and sweet kisses, swirling his tongue around the head, and Crowley took deep, measured breaths, trying to get himself back under control. He couldn’t come yet, no matter what Aziraphale did, he’d promised not to come... _until Aziraphale said_. He could do it, he told himself with somewhat diminished confidence. He could do it. 

All at once, the slow licks ended and Aziraphale engulfed Crowley’s entire cock in his mouth, sucking hard. Crowley moaned, a ragged sound torn from his throat, and instinctively, his hands went to Aziraphale’s hair. He could feel Aziraphale humming around him, vibrating him, and swore foully. His orgasm was growing closer…. closer…. and he wondered for the first time about using the safeword so he could come. 

He didn’t get to debate very long before Aziraphale backed off again, returning to licks and kisses, and Crowley panted for breath. He wanted to please Aziraphale, wanted to please him so badly, but he also wanted to come. His balls were starting to ache. 

As if he sensed this, Aziraphale lowered himself a little more and started pressing soft, sucking kisses to Crowley’s bollocks, interspersed with light licks, while he loosely pumped Crowley’s cock. It allowed Crowley time to get a hold of himself, to regain control, and he was grateful. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, just loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Crowley nodded. “I - I think so.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He shook his head. “No. No, I don’t. I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“I think you can take a lot more, my dear. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then let me do this for you. Don’t come until I say. Alright?”

Crowley nearly whimpered, but nodded. “Alright.”

He was surprised when Aziraphale grabbed his legs and tugged him, encouraging him to slouch down further, until his arse was hanging off the seat. Before he had time to question it, he felt two lubed fingers between his cheeks, massaging his hole, while Aziraphale suckled his balls. Crowley used a miracle to open himself up a tiny bit, eager to get those fingers inside him. Aziraphale smiled against his balls, but didn’t comment. He just carefully inserted his two fingers into Crowley’s arse, making him moan. 

Aziraphale fucked him with his fingers for a little while, carefully avoiding his prostate, his mouth smearing lazy kisses all over Crowley’s cock and balls. Crowley was just becoming accustomed to the sensation, congratulating himself on maintaining his cool, when Aziraphale took his cock into his mouth again and started bobbing his head, sucking hard, his fingers pounding into Crowley’s arse. Crowley tightened his hands in Aziraphale’s hair, threw his head back, and cried out. 

“Angel, angel, _fuck_...”

The music was swelling again, but Crowley barely noticed. All of his focus was on the feeling of Aziraphale’s fingers in his arse and his mouth on his cock - and fighting the growing need for climax. 

He was just about to shout a warning when Aziraphale backed off yet again, slowing his fingers and the motions of his mouth. Crowley was practically limp, flopped in his seat, his chest heaving with his breaths. Aziraphale placed one last kiss to the head of Crowley’s cock then looked up at him with a wicked twinkle in his eye. 

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Jesus Christ, angel…”

Aziraphale arched one brow. “Do you wish for me to stop?”

Crowley shook his head vigorously. “No, no. Don’t stop.” 

Carefully and without a word, Aziraphale added a third finger to Crowley’s arse, making him moan. 

“I’m nearly ready to fuck you, dear.”

“What are you - _shit_ ,” he swore when Aziraphale scissored his fingers. “What are you waiting for?”

“The right moment. It’s coming soon.”

“Am _I_ going to be coming soon?” Crowley asked hopefully. 

Aziraphale laughed. “Not too long, now, I shouldn’t think.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

The music came to a thundering crescendo, and the entire auditorium burst into applause. Aziraphale looked over his shoulder towards the sound, then back at Crowley with a gleam in his eye. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

Crowley nodded. “Yes, please, fuck, yes…”

Aziraphale kissed the inside of Crowley’s thigh and rocked back on his heels, withdrawing his fingers, making Crowley whimper. “Stand up,” he said, and Crowley obeyed, getting to his feet on wobbly legs. “Go to the railing.”

Crowley gave him a curious look, but went to the railing, his trousers around his ankles, looking out over the crowd that was getting to their feet, applauding during the curtain call. 

He felt Aziraphale press up against the back of him, soft hands firm on Crowley’s arse and Aziraphale’s breath hot on his neck. “Make it so they can’t see, then bend over a little for me.”

Crowley whimpered, but did as instructed, using a miracle to hide them from view and bending over, presenting his bare arse to Aziraphale. Within seconds, he felt Aziraphale’s prick rubbing the crease of his arse. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, Crowley,” Aziraphale said in a low voice, rubbing his hands along Crowley’s narrow hips. “I’m going to fuck you, but you’re still not allowed to come until I say. Do you understand?”

Crowley nodded. 

“Remember, you can use the safeword if you need to. But I promise: the longer you hold out, the better it’s going to be. Do you believe me?”

Crowley nodded again. 

“Good boy. Are you ready?”

“Please, angel.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“With pleasure.”

He felt Aziraphale’s lubed cock slide between his cheeks, seeking and finding his hole. Crowley felt pressure against his loosened arsehole that grew and grew until there was a little pop and sudden fullness. The demon gasped, then sighed at the intrusion. Slowly, gently, Aziraphale pushed forward until he was buried in Crowley’s arse as far as he could go. His hands were gentle on Crowley’s hips as he slid out, then back in. 

“Look at those people down there, Crowley,” Aziraphale crooned in his ear. “Look at them in their finery, thier jewels and their suits. They’re all so proper, leaving the ballet. They’d be _scandalized_ to know that you’re up here, getting buggered.”

Crowley whimpered, biting his lip, trying not to cry out as Aziraphale fucked him with long, smooth strokes. 

“Your arse is so good, Crowley. So hot and tight. I could fuck you like this for hours and not let you come. Should I?”

“Please, please, angel…”

“Don’t fret, darling. I’m going to let you come. But I’m going to enjoy this. Oh, yes. This is _wonderful_. Do you like the way I’m fucking you?”

“More, please.”

“You can have whatever you want, my darling. Anything at all.”

Aziraphale sped up his thrusts, fucking Crowley harder, rocking his hips into the railing. His hands were tight on Crowley’s hips now and the head of his cock grazed Crowley’s prostate with each thrust. Crowley’s own cock was throbbing, dripping precome, and he gritted his teeth against the orgasm he could feel threatening. He wanted to come, he _needed_ to come, but he’d been ordered not to. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Do you like that, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked in a low voice, barely heard over the music playing while people filed out of the building. “Do you like the way I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, yes, God, fuck, _yes_... please…”

“More?”

“Yes! Fuck! Please!”

Aziraphale fucked him harder, pounding into him now, and Crowley gave a little cry with each impact. 

“Ah! Ah! Angel!”

“Don’t come yet, Crowley,” Aziraphale admonished, his voice rough with exertion. “Don’t come yet.”

“Please, please, angel!”

“Not… yet… _fuck!_ ”

Aziraphale pounded him once, twice, then went stiff, emptying himself deep in Crowley’s arse. Crowley could feel the pulsing deep inside him, Aziraphale’s hands clutching him tight, and he nearly cried. He had been so close, so incredibly close. He loved nothing better than bringing Aziraphale to orgasm, but usually he got to come, too, and the disappointment he felt was at war with elation because Aziraphale had found his pleasure. 

The angel slumped over his back for a moment, breathing heavily, and Crowley waited as patiently as he was able. Aziraphale wouldn’t leave him like this, he _wouldn’t_. Aziraphale would make him come. Crowley wondered for the hundredth time about the safeword, but decided to trust Aziraphale. He was sure his angel had a plan. 

Aziraphale huffed one more huge breath, pressed a kiss to Crowley’s back, then pulled his cock out of his arse. Crowley turned to question him, but a strong hand bent him back over the banister and Crowley had just a glimpse of Aziraphale dropping to his knees behind him. The next thing he knew, he felt Aziraphale’s tongue on his hole, licking and sucking, and Crowley couldn’t help it. He howled. 

“Angel, angel, _please_...”

Aziraphale’s tongue was like lightning, cleaning his own spend from Crowley’s arse and fucking him with it, too. Crowley gritted his teeth in pleasure and pounded his fist on the railing. 

“Ah! Ah! God! Angel, please!”

One of Aziraphale’s hands reached between Crowley’s legs to grip his dripping cock and start pumping it. Crowley shouted, mindless, thrusting into Aziraphale’s fist as hard and fast as he could as Aziraphale’s tongue fucked him. 

“Angel! Angel! Ah! Ah! God! Please!”

Aziraphale withdrew his mouth from Crowley’s arse and immediately inserted two fingers into his hole, pumping them in and out. “Are you ready to come, my love?” he asked perfectly calmly. 

“Yes! Yes! God! Please!”

“Come, Crowley. Come for me.”

He hooked his fingers in Crowley’s arse and massaged his prostate at the same rhythm he was stroking his cock, and Crowley screamed, his orgasm tearing through his entire body, making him seize up in a paroxysm of pleasure. His come left his body in thick ropes, covering Aziraphale’s hand, making a terrible mess, but he was beyond caring. He felt as if he were drowning in ecstasy, tethered to earth only by the hand on his cock and the other up his arse. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, draining him, until he was limp, sagging against the railing, reduced to a quaking mess. 

He whimpered when he felt Aziraphale withdraw his fingers and release his cock, even as he shuddered from an aftershock. He sensed Aziraphale get to his feet behind him, then felt the angel wrap his arms around him, pulling him to standing. 

“Come on, dear. Let’s go home.”

Aziraphale snapped and they disappeared.

~*~O~*~

The next night found them in much the same position they were in most nights: Aziraphale sitting in one corner of the couch, book in hand, while Crowley sprawled across the rest of the couch, his head in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale was playing with his hair idly and Crowley was scrolling the news feed on his mobile, looking for anything interesting.

“Here’s something,” he said to catch Aziraphale’s attention. “Apparently there are reports of a new ghost at the Royal Opera House.”

Aziraphale looked up interestedly. “A new ghost?”

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, reading. “It says…” He paused, blanching. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Aziraphale asked, putting the book down, sounding alarmed. 

“It - um - it seems we were heard last night.” 

The angel looked amused, his lip quirking up. “I’m not surprised, with the way you were carrying on. What does it say?”

“The reports say there was the voice of a man begging, screaming for help from an angel. They’re calling him ‘the Damned Man’.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Well, they’re not too far off the mark, then.”

Crowley groaned. “We can never go back there again.”

“Oh, on the contrary, I think we should go back regularly. Give the ghost watchers something to talk about.”

The demon grinned up at the angel. “You’re insatiable, you know that?” 

Aziraphale grinned in return. “Only for you, my love. Only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love. Thank you for them. 
> 
> If you have a fantasy you'd like to see me write for this series, please drop it in the comments!


End file.
